


An Ordinary Life

by indiefic



Category: Agent Carter (TV), Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cap Bucky kinda maybe it's vague, F/M, Mentions of Eating Disorder, Winter Soldier Steve, life on the run, post-partum depression, steggy babies, steggy domesticity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-31
Updated: 2016-05-31
Packaged: 2018-07-11 04:27:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7028539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indiefic/pseuds/indiefic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“They don’t deserve this, Peg,” he said quietly.  “You choose your own fate.  But those boys deserve better than this.  I loved Steve too.  And I miss him like hell.  And I can’t leave his boys to the mercy of that animal.”  He sighed.  “Now get your things and get your ass in the car.  We’re out of here in five.”</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Steggy positivity week on Tumblr. Day 04: Domesticity
> 
> #steggyweek2K16

Barnes scanned the horizon.  Nothing yet, but he could feel the sense of foreboding and sickening anticipation.  Natasha pushed through the front door of the apartment building and out into the cool morning air, shrugging, shaking her head.  

 

“Shit,” he cursed, stalking past Natasha into the apartment building.  He bolted up the stairs, taking them two at a time.  He pounded on the door, pacing back and forth out in the hallway.  He braced his hands on either side of the jamb, hanging his head.  “Come on, Peg,” he called, using her real name.  The cover was blown.  “Open up.”

 

There was a click and the door finally opened a crack.  She still had the chain on, for all the good that would do.  He looked at her.  Even only seeing a small segment of her face, he was struck again by how different she was from the formidable agent he knew during the war.  Her hair was pulled back and her face was completely free of cosmetics.  She was pale and the hollows beneath her eyes were shadowed.

 

She nodded at him.

 

“Come on,” he said gently.  “Let’s go.”

 

She shifted, biting down on her bottom lip as she looked behind herself, into the apartment.

 

Barnes shook his head.  “Look,” he snapped.  She turned and looked at him.  He shook his head again.  “If this was just you, I’d leave you to your fate.  But it’s not just you.”

 

He could see her lips purse together and he felt cruel, brutish.  But it was necessary.  Better her feelings be hurt by him, than face what that monster would do to her.

 

“They don’t deserve this, Peg,” he said quietly.  “You choose your own fate.  But those boys deserve better than this.  I loved Steve too.  And I miss him like hell.  And I can’t leave his boys to the mercy of that animal.”  He sighed.  “Now get your things and get your ass in the car.  We’re out of here in five.”

 

* * *

 

 

Neither Peggy nor the boys made a sound as they climbed in the backseat of the waiting SUV.  There was a carseat, for the little one.  He was carrying a stuffed bear, dressed like Iron Man and he was quiet.  

 

Bucky didn’t know kids.  He’d never been around them much.  But he figured they should be noisier than this.  But not these kids.  These kids knew what was waiting for them, what would happen if they didn’t get in the car and walk away from their lives yet again.

 

“Shit,” he said under his breath, pulling away from the curb.

 

* * *

 

 

“Why her?” Natasha asked, looking over at him, as he took a drink of coffee.

 

Bucky shrugged.

 

“That’s not an answer.”

 

Bucky stared through the plate glass window that was a poor substitute for an office wall.  Peggy was filling out paperwork for a new apartment.  New to her and the boys, but decidedly not new.  It was a shithole.  And Peggy looked terrible.  Her clothes were threadbare and hanging on her rail thin frame.  Her nose was red from the perpetual cold she could never seem to shake.  

 

The boys looked better than Peg.  Always clean.  Well fed.  Healthy.  But they had the look of a different kind of deprivation about them, a kind Bucky remembered from a lifetime ago in a Brooklyn tenement.

 

Peggy’s sweater slipped off the edge of her thin shoulder and she absently pulled it back up, hunching in on herself, wrapping her arms around her middle.  She looked hunted and haunted.

 

“Because Steve loved her,” Bucky said quietly, forcing himself to look away, to stare at the rain drizzling down outside.

 

“Okay, but what’s special about her?” Natasha pressed.  “What makes her worth the effort he expends to track her down?  She doesn’t know anything.  She doesn’t have anything.  Maybe seventy years ago she was an asset, but now she looks like a candidate for a Dr. Phil intervention.”

 

Bucky leaned forward, bracing his elbows against his thighs, shaking his head.  “You don’t understand,” he said.  “Steve was ... different.  He didn’t mess around. He didn’t bring home dames.  He and Peggy - “  Bucky nodded his head in her direction.  He sighed.  “He loved her.  And that meant a lot.”

 

“And that’s enough for that monster to track her down, to chase her and her kids from one end of the country and back?”

 

Bucky shrugged.  “You want me to psychoanalyze him?  I don’t know why the fuck he does the fucked up things he does.  Your guess is as good as mine.  Maybe he’s not the one who wants her.  Maybe his handlers want her.  But I can tell you that she meant the world to Steve.”

 

Natasha was quiet and Bucky looked over at her.

 

“You feel responsible,” she said.  “It’s not your place.  You may have been friends with Rogers, but this isn’t your problem.”

 

Bucky looked away.  “Those are Steve’s boys.  And I owe them.  They deserve better than this life.”

 

“When did SHIELD defrost her?” Natasha asked.

 

Frowning, Bucky gave her a warning look.  “You know as well as me the answer to that question.”

 

“Humor me.”

 

He sighed, dragging a hand through his hair.  He frowned.  “Six years ago.  Same as me.”

 

Natasha nodded.  “And those boys are what?  Five and two?  Those aren’t Steve Rogers’ kids, James.”

 

“They are,” he said firmly, a warning.  “They are Steve’s kids.  And they deserve more.”

 

* * *

 

 

Peggy set Michael down, shooing him after his brother as they ran to explore the new apartment.  

 

“The beds will be delivered later today,” Bucky said tightly.  He was fidgeting.  In another life, Peggy would have offered him a cigarette just to get him to stop twitching.  “Nat went out to grab you some groceries.”

 

Peggy nodded, walking over to the window and staring out.  Portland.  She’d never been here before.  She wasn’t sure she cared one way or the other.  It never seemed to matter.  They probably wouldn’t be here long.  Sometimes they could stretch it out to six months, but it was typically closer to four before SHIELD made an assessment and decided that he was getting too close.  Then they’d pack them up again and move them.  Before  _ he _ could find them.  It was a farce.

 

She knew Bucky would give her the rundown again.  No contact.  No getting in touch with former friends - like she had any.  No googling herself, or Steve, or  _ him _ .  Peggy had given up trying to explain that she always followed the rules.

 

It wasn’t hard.  She didn’t have friends, or family.  Everyone she’d ever known was dead.  She was dead.  She couldn’t even be herself.  Today she was Amy Waterman.  Yesterday she’d been Jennifer Drake.  She didn’t google herself because she didn’t google anything.  She didn’t have a smartphone.  She still didn’t understand how this world worked and she certainly didn’t feel a part of it.

 

Wherever they went it was always this: her, and her boys, and four walls.  That was her world.  She didn’t have people, or places, or things.  

 

She was so sick of running.  He always found them.  Usually months before SHIELD deemed he was ‘getting close’.  She never disabused them of their illusions.  For whatever reason, they liked to think they were protecting her.  She wondered how they thought she conceived John and Michael.  Surely they’d done genetic testing.  They knew who their father was.

 

“The paperwork on Steve’s pension,” Peggy said, glancing over her shoulder.

 

“In process,” Bucky said tightly.  “I’ll have Stark lean on Ross again.  But don’t worry.  I’ll make sure the boys get it.”

 

“If something happens to me - “

 

“Don’t talk like that, Peg,” he said, cutting across her.  “Nothing’s going to happen to you.”

 

“But if something does happen to me,” she pressed, turning to face him.  “You’ll make sure the boys are taken care of?”

 

“I - “ he started and then stopped.  He nodded.  “Of course.  Of course I’ll make sure they’re taken care of.”

 

Peggy pulled her cardigan closed more tightly.  “Don’t let anyone split them up,” she said, staring right into his eyes.  “Promise me.  You won’t let anybody split them up.  They’re all each other has.”

 

Bucky sighed and stepped closer.  He leaned in and pressed a kiss to her forehead.  “They have you too, Peg,” he said.  “Don’t forget that.”

 

* * *

 

 

Peggy woke with a start, sitting bolt upright.  She was breathing hard, but straining to listen.  The room was absolutely dark, thanks to the towels she’d pin nailed over the windows.  She glanced at the clock.  It was after two.  She could hear the rain outside, and the fridge in the kitchen, but nothing else.

 

But something wasn’t right.

 

Quietly, she threw her legs over the side of the bed, shivering as her bare feet made contact with the cold, hardwood floors.  She was wearing an old, threadbare t-shirt, which did little to warm her as she inched her way to the door.  She stopped, standing at the end of the hallway, staring down it to the living room.  There was no sound, no movement.

 

Carefully, she stepped into the hallway.  She walked past the bathroom.  The door to the boys’ room was open as usual.  She looked inside and her heart stopped.  He was sitting there, on one of the milk crates they used to store the boys’ toys.  On the far side of the room, in the bunkbeds, Michael had climbed out of his own bed and was curled up with John.  They were both fast asleep.

 

Even in the dim light, she could see him turn his head, look at her.  

 

Slowly, she crept into the room.  He seemed unconcerned, turning back to watch the boys.  She stepped up to his side and held out her hand.

 

He glanced up at her.  “It’s so rare that I get to see them.”

 

“Please,” she said softly, making every effort to not wake the boys.

 

For a long moment, he watched her and then with a sigh, he took her hand and stood.  He let her pull him out of the room and down the hall.  She closed and locked the door to her room, turning to him.

 

He reached over and flicked on the overhead light, one dim, dusty bulb.  She blinked quickly, looking away.  He cupped the side of her face in one large hand, his callused thumb playing along her cheekbone.  Her eyes fluttered shut.

 

He reached out, grabbed the hem of her t-shirt and pulled it over her head.  She blinked quickly, staring at the far wall, at a crack in the plaster that spiderwebbed out.  

 

He sighed and she winced.  She knew how she must look. She was so thin.  Her breasts were fairly non-existent, her ribs poking angrily against her skin.  She’d lost so much weight she’d stopped bleeding.  But she stood there, shivering under his gaze.

 

He cursed and stepped back a half step so he could pull his t-shirt over his head.  He didn’t drop it to the floor like she expected, he pulled it over her head.  It was new.  Thicker than her t-shirt, falling to her knees.  And it still held the heat of his body.  He pulled her close and she went gladly, resting her cheek against his bare chest as he wrapped his arms around her.

 

“Peggy,” he whispered against her hair.  “Why didn’t you tell me it was this bad?”

 

He turned off the light and urged her toward the bed.  It was a single.  She didn’t need anything bigger.  She scooted as close to the wall as she could, making room for him.  Once he was settled, he pulled her close again, both on their sides, chest to chest.  His hands played over her back, his touch possessive, but soothing.

 

Peggy knew what Bucky thought happened when Steve was here.  And she understood.  She’d seen the tapes, all of them.  Fury had seemed to take particular delight in showing her the footage of Steve killing Howard and Howard’s wife.  Peggy had met Tony Stark.  She understood the very real consequences Steve’s actions wrought.  She understood the damage he’d done, the lives he’d ended.

 

But she also understood it hadn’t been  _ him _ .  Peggy knew they thought her naive or broken, or a combination of both.  She was neither.  She loved Steve.  She would always love Steve.  And despite the blood on his hands, he was as much a victim in all of this as the people he’d killed.  He hadn’t chosen any of it.  It was something that had been done to him, against his will, without his consent, and beyond his control.

 

She was fairly certain that first time he found her, it was a test.  His handlers sent him after her to prove to themselves that they owned him, body, mind and soul.  Except that they didn’t own him.  Some part of him would always belong to her.  He failed their test.  He remembered her.  He loved her.

 

They tried to burn her out of him.  The next time she saw him, it was a near thing.  He hurt her, badly.  But at the last moment, he stopped.  He knew her.  And the look of horror on his face.

 

But that’s what Bucky remembered.  The broken bones, made all the worse by the fact that she’d been heavily pregnant with John at the time.  That’s what Bucky thought it was like between them, the rule rather than the exception.  That Steve wanted to possess, rather than protect her.  Which wasn’t true.

 

She didn’t know what Steve’s life was like when he wasn’t with her.  He wouldn’t say much, except that he would find a way for them to all be together.  But she suspected he was now running from the same people who used to hold his leash.  

 

“We’re leaving,” he said quietly.  “Tomorrow.  All of us.”

 

“We can’t,” she said in a shaky whisper.  “The boys have tracking chips -”

 

“I know,” he said.  “I can take care of those.”

 

“If we run, we’ll be running from Hydra  _ and _ SHIELD,” she said morosely.  “We’d only slow you down.  No one cares about us, Steve, but if they find you - “

 

“I’m not going to watch you waste away, Peggy,” he said firmly.  “Not anymore.  My own kids don’t know me.  They’re being taught to fear me.”

 

“I never - “

 

He kissed her gently.  “I know,” he said.  “I know.  But I’m done waiting on the war to be over.  It’ll never be over.  You and the boys are my family and we’re going to be together.”

 

* * *

 

 

Peggy woke to the smell of food.  She blinked.  There was no light in her room, thanks to the towels.  But the light coming in through the doorway told her it was morning.  She pushed herself to her feet and padded down the hallway and into the living room.

 

She stood there, at the end of the hallway, looking through the tiny living room into the equally tiny kitchen.  Steve was standing in front of the stove, cooking.  Next to him, on a chair, was Michael.  John was sitting on the counter next to the stove.  She watched as Steve directed John to pour a bowl of, it looked like eggs, into one of the pans.  Then Steve handed him a spoon and told him to stir.  

 

Steve reached for the lid of another pan, but before taking it off, he scooped Michael up in the other arm and twisted, so Steve was between Michael and the pan.  Apparently it was bacon and Steve made an irritated sound as he got popped with hot oil.

 

Michael did not seem happy.  He saw her and squawked, “Mama,” wriggling in Steve’s grasp.  Steve glanced at her and set Michael down.  He ran to Peggy and she scooped him up into her arms, walking back into the kitchen.

 

She looked from Michael to John and then to Steve.  Steve was wearing his jacket, despite how warm it was in the kitchen.  Peggy presumed this was because she was still wearing his t-shirt.

 

“We’re cooking,” Steve said unnecessarily.

 

“I see,” Peggy replied, arching an eyebrow.

 

If John and Michael thought it was weird that some guy was in their kitchen cooking, they didn’t say anything.  Peggy suspected it had to do with the fact that they typically weren’t allowed near the stove.  Apparently a stranger who let them play with fire wasn’t someone to be discounted out of hand.  Peggy gave a fleeting thought to just how irritated Bucky would be with this development.

 

Steve put the lid back on the bacon and checked the eggs before shooing John off the counter.  He turned and leaned in, giving her a kiss on the forehead.  “Go take a shower,” he said.  “We have this under control.  We’ll leave after we eat.”

 

She looked up at him, frowning.  This was either the greatest idea they’d ever had, or the worst.  

 

Steve turned and opened one of the kitchen cabinets.  He took out a tablet and held it out to John, arching an eyebrow.  “What’d I tell you?”

 

“Don’t break it,” John repeated, wary but obviously wanting the tablet.

 

Steve gave it to him and John sped off to the bedroom with Michael in fast pursuit.

 

Peggy sighed, rubbing her head.  Steve pulled her close.  “It’ll be okay.”

 

Looking up at him, she asked, “Who did you tell them you are?”

 

He looked at her.  “Their father.”

 

She blinked at him.  “You just ... said it?”

 

He shrugged.  “John asked me who I was and I said ‘your dad’.”

 

Peggy frowned again.  “And  _ he _ didn’t ask any questions?  John?  The taller one?”

 

Steve sighed.  “Well, then I gave him the iPad and told him not to tell you about it.”

 

Groaning, Peggy leaned forward, resting her forehead against his chest.

 

“Go on,” he said, gently pushing her away.  “Shower.  Then food.  And I need my shirt back.”

 

* * *

 

 

Their table was a card table with a rickety set of chairs.  It wasn’t fancy, but it was what they had.  Though Peggy had to admit that Steve looked ridiculously large sitting at the little table.  

 

Peggy knew, of course, what Steve and the boys looked like.  She knew their mannerisms.  But it was striking to see them all in such close proximity.  John and Michael both resembled Steve closely, Michael, perhaps, a bit more simply because they had the same coloring.  Peggy thought the shape of John’s face was more similar to Steve’s, but he had dark hair and eyes like her.  And Peggy had never considered mannerisms to be genetic, but clearly there was some component of that.  The boys had never been around Steve before, but they all shared certain quirks.

 

Steve put another piece of bacon on Peggy’s plate and gave her a challenging look.  “ _ Eat _ ,” he said pointedly.

 

She sighed.  She knew she was too thin.  But she was never hungry.  She forced herself to finish it.

 

* * *

 

 

Peggy sat on the park bench, watching as John handed out little toy robots to several of the other kids at the playground.  Apparently two of them had clones of the boys’ tracking chips in them.  It wouldn’t fool SHIELD for long, but long enough that they could get a headstart.  Peggy still hadn’t asked where they were going.  It didn’t matter.

 

* * *

 

 

The first night was interesting.  It was a long day on the road and Steve’s truck was serviceable, but not the greatest ride.  John and Michael were quiet, mostly because Steve was still an unknown quantity and they didn’t know how hard they could push.  Peggy knew that wasn’t likely to last for long, so she hoped the roadtrip had an end in sight.

 

Peggy had wrongly assumed that they would head either north or south, toward a border.  Instead, Steve drove east.  Despite the fact that the last twelve hours were the longest amount of time Steve had ever spent with his children, he was surprisingly mindful of them.  He stopped far more frequently than was prudent given they were trying to put distance between them and Portland.  But it made things so much easier on the boys.  They could get down and run.  And Steve made sure meals were on the dot.  He watched Peggy, making sure she ate.  

 

It was after midnight when they finally pulled into the sketchy little motel somewhere in Wyoming.  Peggy waited while Steve got the key, an actual key, on a keychain.  The room was old and didn’t smell the greatest, but it would do for the night.  

 

The boys were asleep.  Steve carried John, and Peggy carried Michael.  They tucked them into the double bed farthest from the door.  The shower was in surprisingly decent repair.  Peggy took a scalding hot shower and dried herself on the scratchy towel.  

 

They’d stopped at some discount chain store along the way and picked up the bare necessities that weren’t covered in the items Peggy brought.  A couple of shirts for Steve, a pair of sweats and a nightshirt for Peggy.  She knew once they finally stopped, they’d have to procure more items.  But for now, this was enough.

 

Peggy shrugged into the new nightshirt and crawled into the other bed.  She watched Steve strip off his clothes.  Jesus he was impressive.  She was mostly asleep by the time he finished in the shower.  He pulled on a pair of clean shorts and curled up against her back, holding her as they slept.

 

* * *

 

 

Peggy blinked awake, staring directly into Michael’s blue eyes.  The only reason she didn’t jump was because this was how she woke more often than not.  Actually, typically Michael would just crawl on top of her.  But Peggy could still feel Steve against her back.  His arm was slung across her waist.  Apparently Michael wasn’t feeling quite that brave, just yet.

 

“Yes?” she asked, pushing herself up on her elbow.

 

Steve was immediately awake, scrubbing a hand over his face, yawning.

 

Michael watched him with huge eyes, holding onto Peggy’s hand.  Peggy wondered if the boys thought Steve would magically disappear overnight, leaving as quickly as he arrived.  She looked over at John, who was laying in bed, in the thrall of that damn tablet.

 

Peggy reached out, pulling Michael into her arms.  He still watched Steve warily, but he snuggled contently against Peggy.

 

Steve pushed himself out of bed and went to the window, pulling one of the dust covered draperies aside and looking outside.  Seemingly satisfied, he turned back to the bed and blinked.

 

Michael and John both were now occupying Steve’s spot in the bed, both watching the tablet.

 

“Welcome to parenthood,” Peggy said.

 

* * *

 

 

Their final destination was a strange, smelly little town in the middle of the great plains.  It wasn’t on the way to anything.  It did, however, have a huge livestock industry.  There were multiple feed yards and slaughterhouses.  It meant for a highly changeable population with a lot of immigrants, many illegal.  There was a lot of cash under the table.  And people didn’t tend to ask a lot of questions.

 

The first night in their new home was another motel, slightly nicer than the one in Wyoming, but still not nice.  The next day, they found a little house.  The rent was exorbitant, especially considering the house could use some repairs.  But it was furnished.  It had two bedrooms and a decent bathroom.  The appliances had been upgraded and there was a fenced yard.

 

Steve filled out the paperwork and paid for the first two months in cash.  Peggy took the truck to the store and bought sheets, towels, toiletries and basic kitchen supplies while Steve stayed with the boys.  Peggy also picked up two burner phones.  Her American accent was passable and it helped that she was out of the habit of making smalltalk with people.  She felt no need to chat.

 

At the house, the washer and drier worked.  Peggy verified as she washed the sheets and then made the beds.  Steve was in the backyard with the boys.  It was early October and the weather was chilly, but not yet freezing.  Night fell quickly and they ordered pizza for their first dinner in their new home.  

 

Peggy managed to wrangle both boys into the bathtub without too much complaining.  Teeth were brushed and pajamas donned.  Both boys were tucked into the double bed in the second bedroom.  Peggy read a bedtime story as Steve stood in the doorway, watching.  Before she turned out the light, Steve pressed a kiss to both their heads.  Or he tried to.  He settled for ruffling Michael’s hair, when the little boy shied away from him.

 

There was still a lot to do after the boys were asleep.  Peggy was standing at the kitchen counter making a grocery list when Steve came up behind her, rubbing her shoulders.  She groaned and leaned back into him.  He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close, kissing her neck.

 

She twisted in his embrace, wrapping her arms around his neck, kissing him.  He needed little encouragement.  Despite the fact that they’d been sharing a bed recently, it had actually been quite a while since they were last intimate.  He lifted her, setting her on the kitchen counter, insinuating himself between her legs as he kissed her again.

* * *

 

 

In their darkened bedroom, Peggy threaded her fingers through Steve’s.  He pressed closer to her, skin to skin.  He was so warm and she reveled in it.  She seemed to be forever freezing, worse now than when they’d first defrosted her.  The only time she ever felt warm was next to him.

 

“John needs to go to school,” Peggy said.

 

Steve made a noise of agreement.  “I have a guy.  He’s working on identities.  We should have them next week.  They’ll be solid.  We can enroll him after that.”

 

She sighed, pressing closer to him.  “Do you think this will work?”

 

“I think I’m a hell of a lot better at hiding you than Buck,” he said flatly.

 

She bit back a smile.  “How did you always find us?  I followed the rules.  There shouldn’t have been any way for you to track me.”

 

“I didn’t track you,” he said.  “I tracked Buck.”

 

“Bucky?” she asked, looking at him in the dim light.

 

“He watched you,” Steve said tightly.  “A lot.  More than protocol demands.”

 

Peggy frowned at his tone.  “He was looking out for us,” ‘she said.  “As a favor to you.  To your friendship.”  

 

He made a noncommittal sound.  

 

Peggy pushed herself up on one elbow, looking at him.  “He has been a good friend.”

 

“I wasn’t suggesting anything,” Steve qualified.  “I’m just saying.  He watched you.  A lot.  More than he should have.  It’s how I found you.”

 

Peggy flopped back on the bed.  “For your sake, you’d better not be suggesting anything else.”

 

With an irritated noise, he pulled her close.  “I don’t want to fight.”

 

She burrowed against him.  She didn’t want to fight either.

* * *

 

 

Peggy was vaguely aware of little feet tromping down the hall.  The mattress shifted as Steve sprang out of bed, moving to intercept.

 

“Fellas,” she heard him say, as he pulled the door shut, “come on, let her sleep.”

 

* * *

 

 

Peggy made a grocery run mid-morning.  She was forced to take Michael with her when he categorically refused to stay with Steve.  John didn’t seem to have any such reservations.  He didn’t say much, but he shadowed Steve from room to room, always watching.

 

Peggy was unpacking the groceries.  John and Michael were both hovering near, underfoot as usual.  In frustration, she handed a roll of duct tape to John.  “Go give this to your father.”

 

He turned without a word and sought out Steve.  She looked at Michael, who typically trailed after his brother, but he just blinked up at her.  “Too soon?”

 

A few moments later, Steve walked into the room with John at his heels.  He held up the duct tape.  “Why do I need this?”

 

Peggy sighed.  “I was trying to get at least one of them out of here so I can put stuff away.”

 

He looked chagrinned.  “Oh.”

 

She gave him a tight smile.  “Yeah.”

 

“Come on, fellas,” Steve said.  “Let’s give your mother some room.”

 

John immediately moved to follow Steve, but Michael stayed where he was.  Steve turned and looked at him.  “Come on, buddy.”

 

Michael wasn’t moving.

 

Sighing, John walked over to Michael and took his hand, leading him out of the room despite his squawks of protest.  “C’mon, Mikey.”

 

* * *

 

 

Several evenings later, Steve was sitting on the couch with Peggy curled against his side.  She was trying to read a novel and he was flipping through TV channels without really seeing any of the content.  He took a deep breath.  “Michael hates me.”

 

Peggy set her book down and looked over at him, frowning.  “He doesn’t hate you,” she said.  “He’s just very small and you’re - “

 

He arched an eyebrow at her in question.

 

“You’re very large.”

 

He frowned at her.  “He’s afraid of me because I’m so big?”

 

Sighing, she shifted her entire body toward him.  He was struck, again, by how thin she was.  Though he did think she looked a little better, even in just the few days since they left Portland.  Her eyes weren’t so shadowed.  And her lips had more color.

 

“He’s little and he’s never been around men,” she said, pulling her hands inside the sleeves of the sweatshirt she was wearing.  It hung on her thin frame.  Her fingers were toying nervously with the cuffs.  “I just ...”  She trailed off.  Taking a deep breath, she started again.  “I stopped trying, at some point.  We didn’t have friends.  We weren’t even friendly with the neighbors.  It was me and the kids, in the apartment.  I’d take them to the park, or on the occasional unavoidable errand.  But we didn’t socialize.  Ever.”

 

“Peggy,” he said softly, “I wasn’t saying it was your fault.”

 

She shook her head, blinking quickly.  “But it is,” she countered.  “When John was little I tried.  I took him to playgroups.  He had friends.  He knew people.  But after Michael, I just ... couldn’t.  I couldn’t find the energy.  It seemed so pointless when SHIELD was just going to move us again.”

 

Steve pulled her close, kissing her on the cheek, feeling like an ass.  “I’m sorry I wasn’t there.  I’m sorry you had to do it alone.”

 

She shrugged, dabbing at her eyes with her sleeve.  “Bucky was really the only adult male that Michael was ever around.  And I think Michael learned to associate Bucky showing up with me being very upset and everything changing.  It wasn’t a happy correlation.  So any wariness he has is my fault, not yours.”

 

He pressed his forehead to hers.  “I’m sorry I got frustrated,” he said.  “I know it’ll take time.  And that’s okay.  We have time.  Michael and I will work it out.”

 

Peggy sighed and leaned into him.  Steve regretted saying anything.  He wasn’t surprised that Michael was wary.  It was just that in contrast to how easily John seemed to accept him, it was a little hard to take.  But despite what Peggy thought, Steve knew it was on him.  He was the one who abandoned her in such a rough spot.

 

John had been an accident, conceived while both of them were still half out of their minds.  Her from being recently defrosted, him from having Hydra scientists screwing with his brain chemistry.  They’d found each other, against all odds.  It had been frantic and animalistic, with no thought to consequences.

 

And then there’d been the backlash from his handlers.  They sent him after her again, a new imprint with a kill order.  He managed to stop himself.  But it was a near thing.  Steve knew he would never forgive himself for that.  By some miracle he hadn’t done any lasting damage to either Peggy or John.

 

Steve should have been more careful, on all fronts, after that.  He wasn’t.  John was still a toddler when Steve left her saddled with yet another baby.  It was irresponsible of him.  And Peggy and the boys paid the price for his lack of planning.  And even now, Peggy was still trying to take the blame.

 

He hugged her closer.  “We’ll make it work, Peggy.  I promise.”

  
END CHAPTER


	2. Chapter 2

Steve had been gone most of the day, meeting his contact to get their new identities.  While Michael was perfectly fine with this development, John had been uneasy all day.  He was constantly looking out the window, going outside to play, only to come back in minutes later.  He hadn’t asked Peggy where Steve was, which broke her heart a little.  It was like he was too afraid to ask.

 

Peggy heard the truck before he pulled into the driveway and John immediately bolted out the door.  She heard Steve call, “Hey, buddy.”

 

Several minutes later, Steve walked in the door with John in his arms.  Peggy didn’t miss how white John’s knuckles were as he clung to Steve.  

 

“John,” she said, “come help me while your father takes off his coat.”

 

Reluctantly on both parts, Steve set John down, giving his hair one final tousel.  John helped Peggy carry dishes to the table.  Peggy strapped Michael into his little booster seat at the table, noting the sour frown on his chubby little cheeks.  She kissed him on the forehead.  She knew that somewhere very, very, very deep down, he loved his father.

 

Steve washed his hands and then everyone took a seat at the table.  Peggy felt like all she and Steve did was watch each other eat.  She, so she could figure out how much food he actually needed on a daily basis.  And he so he could make sure she ate something.  She was embarrassed that he felt the need to look after her so closely, though she knew he had a point.  She wasn’t sure how she’d managed to become quite so unwell.

 

When everyone was done, Peggy wiped Michael’s face and hands clean and unbuckled him.  He immediately bounded off, but then stopped when he realized John wasn’t coming.  For his part, John was sitting at the table, looking at the tablet.  Peggy noticed his chair had been scooted considerably closer to Steve.  Michael finally came back to the table, pushing at John until he scooted over far enough that they could share the chair and poke at whatever newest app Steve had downloaded for them.

 

Shaking her head, Peggy asked, “So who are we?”

 

He handed her the stack of documents.  “Steve and Margaret Harris.”

 

She nodded, flipping through the documents.  Passports, drivers’ licenses, birth certificates, marriage license.  Peggy stared at the marriage license.  It was dated eight years ago.

 

“Yeah,” Steve said, “and there’s this.”

 

She looked at him and he was holding out a jeweler’s box.  She blinked at it and then watched in silence as he moved out of his chair, kneeling beside her.  He opened the box.  The ring was simple, but elegant.  A small diamond in a white gold setting.  She looked up, meeting his eyes.

 

“Will you marry me?” he asked.

 

She clapped her hand over her mouth, aware of the tears on her cheeks.

 

“Is that a yes?” he asked cautiously.

 

She nodded and then flung her arms around his neck, hugging him.

 

“Mommy?”

 

Peggy glanced over at John and Michael who were both staring at her with wide, scared eyes.  She motioned them over.  “Come here.  Come see what your father gave me.”

 

They scurried out of the chair, rushing to her side.  Michael immediately climbed into her lap and she held him close.  Steve took the ring out of the box and slipped it on her finger and Peggy sat there looking at it.  The boys looked at it too, but were significantly less impressed.  Obviously, they saw no correlation between her reaction and the piece of jewelry.

 

“You’re married now?” John asked skeptically, looking from Peggy to Steve and back.

 

Peggy nodded, knowing this was as close to a legitimate marriage as they were going to get.  “We are.”

 

It was clear this information didn’t mean a whole lot to John.  And it meant nothing at all to Michael.  But it meant a lot to Peggy and possibly more to Steve.  She leaned forward, cupping Steve’s face in her hands and kissing him.

 

Michael, who was still sitting in her lap and therefore, was slightly smushed between his parents, made an irritated noise.  He wriggled free of the public display of affection with as much indignation as a two year old could muster.

 

* * *

 

 

With their new paperwork, Steve found work, in the yard at a small hardware store.  Peggy enrolled John in kindergarten.  The school was clearly unimpressed that he was being enrolled so late in the year, but they didn’t do anything more obstructive than making a lot of grousing noises.

 

John was absolutely not on board with going to school.  Michael was even less okay with the turn of events than John.  The school was only a couple of blocks from the house, so Steve walked John to school every morning.  Michael would walk with them.  And then Steve would carry him, crying and fighting, all the way back home as he wailed for his brother.

 

For the first week, Michael would cling to Peggy’s legs, whining the entire time John was gone.  If Steve was on his lunch hour, or had the day off, he would try and coax Michael into playing, but Michael was not interested.

 

By John’s second week of school, Michael was no longer quite so clingy.  He accepted the fact that John wasn’t going away, he was just busy for most of the day.  But Michael still wasn’t terribly interested in Steve.  Peggy knew she was going to have to find a playgroup for him.

 

In the meantime, she took Michael with her everywhere as she ran errands.  They went to the grocery store and the recycling center.  Occasionally they shopped in thrift stores.  Slowly, Peggy was getting to know a few people.  There were a couple of checkers at the grocery store.  And several of Steve’s coworkers.

 

There was a garage up the block and Peggy had stopped in one morning when the truck stalled out on the way to the store.  Johnny had been very helpful, if a bit too eager.  He looked to be solidly middle aged and terminally single.  He got the truck to start and then offered to see Peggy home.  She declined.  But given how close they lived to the garage, she saw him every now and then. He always waved, which she would return with a tight smile.  She always made sure to wave with her left hand.

 

* * *

 

 

Halloween came and John wanted to dress up as a fireman.  Michael was a ghost.  Both Steve and Peggy were slightly bewildered by the holiday.  It wasn’t something either of them had ever participated in.

 

At the thrift store, Peggy glanced at the adult costumes, which to her all seemed to be variations on stripper outfits.  She’d gained some weight, she knew.  But she was still far from the glory of her wartime figure.  However, even if she had been in her glory, she doubted she costumes would have appealed. Certainly not to be worn in public.

 

Steve and Peggy walked the boys around the neighborhood, going from house to house.  John saw some of his classmates from school and they combined forces, running down the street with Michael hurrying after them as fast as he could.  Steve and Peggy followed, hand in hand, at a much more leisurely pace.  After several blocks, Michael was flagging and he let Steve carry him without much resistance.  

 

Back at the house, the collective haul was evaluated with glee.  Peggy allowed only one piece of candy each for John and Michael, which led to much whining.  Peggy also noticed that as she was helping the boys brush their teeth, Steve helped himself to the candy.

* * *

 

 

It was several days before Thanksgiving and Peggy and Michael were on their way home from one of his playgroups.  The Monday playgroup was held in the basement of a local church.  There were a dozen children, all around Michael’s age.  He loved going there.  

 

Peggy was somewhat surprised to realize how much larger Michael was than his peers.  She always saw him next to John, who was twice his age and size.  But compared to other kids his own age, Michael was bigger and stronger.  Peggy assumed it was a side effect of the serum.  She added it to the ever growing list of things she and Steve needed to discuss.

 

She and Michael stopped at the grocery store.  Typically she didn’t go all out for lunch, but Steve had the day off and was assembling the new bunkbeds they got for the boys, so she was going to try a new recipe.

 

Peggy parked the truck in the drive and was unbuckling Michael when she realized there was someone standing right next to her.  She jumped, terrified for a moment before she realized it was Johnny from the garage down the street.  

 

She set Michael down, only vaguely aware that he was heading for the house as she did her best to get rid of her unwanted admirer.  This wasn’t the first time Johnny had shown up like this.  Peggy was certainly he was mostly harmless.  But she didn’t like the idea of anyone keeping tabs on her.  She’d mentioned in passing to him that she was married, but the news was always met with this strange little smile that made her think he didn’t believe her.

 

* * *

 

 

“Dad!”

 

Steve looked up from where he was assembling the bed frame on the floor of the boys’ room.  He blinked at Michael who was standing in the doorway.  It was the first time his son had ever addressed him directly in any way other than yelling “No!”.  Until that very moment, Steve had been certain that Michael, in no way, considered Steve to be anything more than an irritation he had to endure.

 

“Yeah, buddy?” he said carefully.

 

Obviously irritated that Steve wasn’t understanding, Michael crossed the room and grabbed his hand, pulling him toward the door.  Steve got to his feet, at which point, Michael immediately held out his hands, wanting to be picked up.  Steve picked him up, encouraged, but confused, as this wasn’t something he’d ever initiated either.  

 

Michael waved enthusiastically toward the door and Steve headed that way.  He could see the truck in the drive and figured maybe Peggy sent Michael to get him so he could help her with something.  When Steve got to the door, he immediately bristled.  

 

Steve didn’t know who the guy was who was talking to Peggy.  But he was standing way too close to her.  Not menacing, exactly, but it was not okay.

 

“Dad,” Michael chirped again, pointing at the interloper, clearly wanting Steve to get rid of the guy.  Steve pushed through the door and walked over to the truck.  The guy’s eyebrows shot up and he immediately stepped back from Peggy.

 

Peggy looked over at Steve and Michael, obviously a little confused, but she seemed relieved.  Steve pulled her against his side, smiling at the guy, in the least friendly way he could manage.  “What’s going on out here?”

 

“Oh, nothing,” Peggy said.  “Johnny from the garage just stopped to see if I needed any help.” 

 

There were some rather tense introductions and Steve assured Johnny that Peggy did not need any help.  And if she did, Steve was going to be the one helping her.  Johnny left rather quickly. Steve carried in the groceries while Michael and Peggy walked hand in hand ahead of him into the house.

 

When they got the groceries into the kitchen, Steve helped her put things away.  

 

“So why did you come outside?” she asked.

 

“Michael came and got me,” he said, relaying the story.

 

Peggy looked over at her son, who was now sitting at the table, coloring, oblivious to the conversation.

 

Steve shrugged.  “Apparently he’s decided I’m useful in certain circumstances.  And I’m glad to know he finds me preferable to Johnny from down the street.”

 

Peggy smiled up at Steve.  “I find you preferable to Johnny from down the street too.”

 

* * *

 

 

The incident with Peggy’s unwanted admirer seemed to be a turning point for Michael and Steve.  It was Thanksgiving evening and Peggy and Steve were sitting on the couch when Michael decided he wanted a book.  He got the book from his room and then bounded to the couch.  But rather than climbing into Peggy’s lap, like he usually did, he climbed into Steve’s.  Leaning back against Steve’s chest, Michael imperiously pointed at the book.

 

Steve dutifully read the book.  John, who had earlier declared it to be a ‘baby’s book’ ventured closer, finally situating himself between Peggy and Steve on the couch, leaning against Steve’s arm as he read.

 

* * *

 

 

“You’re sure about this?” Peggy asked skeptically.

 

“It’ll be fine,” Steve said, helping Michael into his coat.  He glanced up at her.  “It’s a very small tree.  I punched out Adolf Hitler two hundred times.  I can manage to cut down a very small tree.”

 

“You’re from Brooklyn,” Peggy said flatly.

 

“It’s a Christmas tree farm,” he said wryly.  “I suspect even a city boy like me can’t screw this up.”

 

Peggy was not convinced, but Steve’s mind was set.  And the boys were so excited.  “Make sure they keep their hats and gloves on.”

 

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

 

Peggy watched from the door as they all piled into the truck.  She continued to watch until the truck disappeared down the street.

 

Closing the door, she frowned.  This was the first time she’d ever been left at home while her family was out.  Sometimes she left them, to go run an errand while Steve watched the boys.  But she’d never been the one left behind.  It was surprisingly unnerving.

 

Peggy had a list of things she needed to accomplish.  She did some laundry, and then put dinner in the crockpot.  Then she moved on to wrapping presents.  She literally could not remember the last time she wrapped presents.  Surely it had been during the war.  And she certainly hadn’t had to contend with the overwhelming variety of wrapping options.  After a solid ten minutes of staring at the aisle of wrapping paper, Peggy had foregone the value packs and picked our two rolls, one red and one green.

 

Peggy had just finished wrapping the presents when she heard the truck.  She hurried to the door, watching as Steve removed the tree from the back, with the boys supervising.  They ran inside, telling her the story of the tree, very quickly and in incredibly high pitched voices.  Somehow Peggy doubted that the felling of one small tree was quite the dramatic event John and Michael seemed to think it was.  But she was glad they had fun.

 

It took some doing to get the tree in the stand.  The lights and the tinsel were another headache.  But eventually they got to the point that they could decorate the tree.  John and Michael had spent the better part of the last two days making ornaments.  Steve dutifully lifted John any time he decided the ornament needed to be hung higher than he could reach - which as far as Peggy could tell, was every time.  

 

Peggy did notice that Michael, rather than hanging his ornaments around the tree, seemed intent on hanging all of his ornaments on a single branch.  While she applauded his efficiency, she suggested maybe Steve could lift him up so he could hang some of them up near the top.

 

After the tree was decorated, they had dinner.  And then Peggy let the boys set the presents she’d wrapped under the tree.  There would be more decorating in the coming weeks.  She still needed to make stockings with the boys.

 

Peggy gave the boys a bath and Steve tucked them into bed after reading numerous books.  Steve was now the designated book reader as he could easily be manipulated into reading for an hour.  Peggy had a hard limit of three books.

 

After the boys were asleep, Peggy curled up on the couch with her book.  Steve joined her.  He looked tired, but happy.  She reached over, running her fingers through his hair and he took it as an invitation to lay down on the couch with his head in her lap.  Peggy had no objections and she carded her fingers through his hair as she read.

 

“I didn’t know you’d already gone Christmas shopping,” he said.

 

“Just a little,” she said.  “They’re new socks and shoes for the boys.”

 

“Ah.”

 

“I also got something else,” she said.  “For you.  I didn’t wrap it.”

 

He arched his eyebrow and looked up at her, clearly hoping for something along the lines of the Halloween costumes.

 

“Don’t get too excited,” she said.  “It’s a box of condoms.”

 

“Oh,” he said.  “So you’re - “

 

“Yes,” she replied tightly.  “Aunt Flo has seen fit to start visiting me again.  Which means we need to be careful.  I’m not in the mood for a Christmas miracle.”

 

He sighed.  “Roger that.”

* * *

 

 

Peggy was surprised how many events she had to attend in the weeks leading up to Christmas.  She considered herself to still be fairly socially isolated.  But there was John’s winter music program at school, and then a classroom party for him.  Two of the playgroups she took Michael to had little get togethers.  And Steve had a work party, after hours, at his boss’s house.

 

“Give them my regards,” Peggy said.

 

Steve looked at her.  “What if we ... get a sitter?” he tried cautiously.

 

She blinked at him, crossing her arms over her chest.  “A sitter?”

 

“Yeah,” he said.  “What about Carla next door?  She used to be a teacher.  She’s already told you several times that she would watch the boys.”

 

Peggy opened her mouth to speak and then shut it again.

 

Steve pursed his lips together, obviously trying a different approach.  “You do realize that you and I have never actually had a date, right?”

 

“It’s a little beside the point now, don’t you think?” she replied.  “The dancing was a metaphor for sex, Steve, and we have that covered.”

 

Undaunted, he stepped closer.  “You.  Me.  Adult conversation.  Party.  For an hour.”

 

She frowned at him.

 

He pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth.  “Think about it.”

 

* * *

 

 

Peggy did think about it.  And Steve was right, as ridiculous as it seemed, they had never actually been on a date.  Peggy did not like the idea of leaving the boys with someone, but she had to agree with Steve that there probably wasn’t a lot that could go wrong in an hour.

 

Carla came over and Peggy made sure she had both Peggy and Steve’s numbers, as well as the address where the party was.  Carla seemed bemused and undaunted by her small charges.  She ushered Steve and Peggy out the door with a smile.

 

She’d taken more care with her appearance than she could remember doing in a very long time.  She curled her hair.  Her cosmetic application was sparse, mascara to bring out her eyes and a bit of blush.  She decided to forego her traditional red lip in the interest of not having it smeared all over Steve later.  The black a-line skirt was of a modest length, but the fabric tended to cling.  While her curves still weren’t what they had once been, she finally had some again.  The crimson sweater had a deep v-neck.  All in all, she felt rather pretty.

 

If the way Steve was watching her was any indication, he liked it too.

 

Giving Michael and John a final kiss, Peggy let Steve pull her to the truck.  She purposely did not look at the little faces pressed against the window.  They would be gone an hour.  The boys would be fine.

 

Peggy felt unaccountably nervous, like some untried schoolgirl, for reasons she couldn’t discern.  Steve was her partner.  She slept with him every night.  There was absolutely no reason being alone in the truck with him should give her butterflies in her stomach.  But it did.  When he reached over and took her hand, she felt herself blush.

 

Steve parked up the street from his boss’s house.  He walked around the truck and helped her out.  She let him because she was wearing heels for the first time in as long as she could remember and the sidewalks were a bit icy.  He tucked her hand in the crook of his elbow as they walked to the house.

 

The party was nice.  There were a couple dozen people present, most of whom Peggy knew, at least in passing.  They were friendly.  Steve handed Peggy a glass of wine, which she drank with rather more enthusiasm than she had anticipated.  She couldn't remember the last time she’d had alcohol.  The wine had the effect of making everything a little more hazy, cozy and warm.  She sat on the couch, tucked against Steve’s side, listening to his co-workers tell stories.  She didn’t miss how Steve’s hand rested against her thigh, his fingers brushing lightly against her skin.

 

He leaned over to say something to her and punctuated the rather unimportant bit of information with a kiss to the hollow under her ear.  Peggy’s breath caught.  She looked at her watch.  “We should probably - “

 

“Yeah,” he agreed.  “We should.”

 

They said their farewells, telling everyone they promised the sitter they would be back early.  

 

They weren’t home early.

 

Steve climbed in the passenger’s door with Peggy, pushing the seat back and pulling her into his lap.  

 

“Do you have a - “ she managed between kisses.

 

“Yes, ma’am.”

 

* * *

 

 

Peggy was still trying to adjust her clothing as Steve pulled into the driveway.  It was rather hopeless.  She just accepted the fact that Carla was going to know exactly why they were late.

 

“For the record,” Peggy said as primly as she could manage, “I don’t typically do that on the first date.”

 

Steve snorted.  “Which ‘that’ are we talking about?” he asked.  “The first thing, or the second thing?  Or the one at the end?”

 

Shaking her head, Peggy said, “You’re terrible.”

 

He laughed.  “It’s the last first date you’re ever going to have.  I think we can make an argument for your level of skill and enthusiasm not reflecting poorly on your character.”

 

Groaning, Peggy climbed out of the truck and headed for the front door.

 

One look at Carla’s face and Peggy knew they were indeed busted.

 

“I hope you guys had a good time,” Carla said with a smile.

 

Peggy assured her they had, forcing herself to meet Carla’s eyes.  Steve was actually whistling.

 

As soon as Peggy shut the door behind Carla, there was a pounding of little feet as John and Michael both bounded out of their darkened room.  Steve scooped them both up into his arms, frowning at them.  “Fellas,” he said, “you’re supposed to be asleep.”

 

“Why did you guys have to leave?” John asked, frowning.

 

Michael didn’t say anything, he just rested his head against Steve’s shoulder with a grumpy little pout.

 

“Your mother  _ really _ needed to get out for a while,” Steve said solemnly.

 

Peggy gave him a withering look, which he ignored as he walked toward the boys’ room.

 

* * *

 

 

Christmas morning dawned, dreary and gray, with not a flake of snow in sight.  But it did nothing to dampen the boys’ spirits.  It certainly wasn’t a lavish holiday by current standards.  Most of the presents were necessities.  New clothes and essentials.  But there were some fun gifts, several new books, art supplies, some new apps for the tablet, a truly criminal amount of candy, which Peggy assumed Steve purchased so he could eat it after the boys went to sleep.

 

Peggy gave Steve a framed picture, of all of them, sitting on the couch.  It obviously wasn’t professional, but she thought it did a good job of capturing a real moment in their life.  And new shorts, because the state of his underwear was criminal.

 

Steve gave her a box of proper English chocolates and a ridiculous little stuffed sheep she’d seen at the Christmas bazaar, which amused her for its absurdity.

 

It was late afternoon and Michael had collapsed into a heap on the living room floor, dead to the world.  John was on the couch, tapping away at one of the new apps.  Steve was standing in the middle of the room, looking around.  Peggy went to him, wrapping her arms around his waist.  He pulled her close.

 

“Something wrong?” she asked, looking up at him.

 

He looked down at her, eyes glassy, but shook his head.  “Nope,” he said.  “Everything is just perfect.”

  
END STORY

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Peggy and Steve's Most Excellent Domestic Misadventures](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10429185) by [dorrinverrakai1](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dorrinverrakai1/pseuds/dorrinverrakai1)




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